The Apocalypse comes to Lordan
by Leider Hosen
Summary: "They will run in fear..."


The Chosen undead, once again, found himself fleeing for his life as a ganker army in Undead Burg, screaming the whole way-

"Goddammit! Why does this always happen to me!" he shouted, red phantoms pursuing him alongside the dickwraiths, though they didn't fight eachother- of course-

Running up against a wall- he turning, preemptively puckering his buttcheeks as the Gravelord servants, Darkwraiths, Chaos Servants, Dragonbros, Santa Clause, and Bad Dragon closed in on him from all sides-

"Thank you for playing Dark Souls!" one of them shouted, foam dripping from his mouth as he buffed his Washingpole with Sticky white stuff-

Suddenly, a rip in the fabric of space time appeared, the lights flickering a great shape tore through, falling to the path with a great bang-

The gank army stopped a minute to stare at the foreign thing-

It was painted jet black from port to stern with a red stripe and stars, a skull with a hammer and sickle painted on the front next to it's three golden stripes. Two long, sleek artillery cannons mounted to the primary turret swung back and forth as it rotated, revealing it's two massive clusters of ballistic missiles with all manner of decorative noseart posted on, the whole abomination supported by a set of double treads that caused the stone bridge beneath it to crack-

The top hatch folded open, a figure sticking pulling himself out to gaze around. He wore a tattered brown fur jacket and a great black fur cap with a red star and three gold stripes, an AK-47 slung over his shoulder jingling as he looked around, his manly black beard of power crinkling a little-

"Ikh- first we fighting tyrannosaur, now we land in medieval town. Time machine is garbage!" he snapped, smacking the metal plating- the ganker army turning on him-

"Oh look, we got ourselves some fresh meat!" they declared, starting in on the man full sprint-

The figure flipped around at speed that defied human anatomy- his assault rifle firing off a great volley of rounds with accuracy that put Gough utterly to shame and shredded several rows of darkwraiths as the turret of the beastly tank swung around and fired massive rows of artillery shells six at a time-

The shells blew great holes in the stone bridge and caused enough shrapnel to blow the gravelord servants skyhigh- the whole fortress of Soviet steel flying forward and running over any strays that may have slipped by-

"Yo- you broke the game, not cool man, now I has to kill you!" The hellkite drake bellowed, flying down from the higher ground- the AA turrets flipping around and firing hives of ballistic missiles that tore the scumbag dragon apart instantly- the soviet super warrior turning in place and filling the remains with lead for good measure-

"Fuck this shit- I'm out!" the last few phantoms black crystalling out and disconnecting their Wi-Fis for good measure.

"Yes! Run little babies!" The bombastic Russian deathmachine laughed, "There is nothing I can't do!"

The chosen undead took a few tentative steps towards the thing- the soviet looking down on him-

"Welcome comrade!" he smiled, "I see you were in tight pinch, you are okay now?"

"Um- yes… what the fuck is that thing?"

"This," he declared, stroking the polished metal, "Is soviet ultimate weapon- next to Kirov, but that is other story."

"Oh… can I come in with you?"

"Of course comrade! My name is Boris- you are?"

"Um- phil."

"Welcome aboard Phil, Vodka for everyone!"

* * *

The view blew up inside the Apocalypse Tank sweeping all over the room while Boris narrated-

"Soviet poor having many troubles right now- but commander give us 10 billion euro budget for big tanks so we build this: Over there is heated soviet indoor pool- we have soviet roller rink over there by the soviet nightclub full of finest soviet dancers. The soviet arcade over there has soviet Pac Man, soviet sonic the hedgehog, and other fine soviet classics- namely soviet Tetris (we invented that, you know)

All fur is real soviet imported furs and mahogany- _hand_ carved mahogany

Soviet disco ball is over there by soviet roller rink- but do not enter red room a little past that until after hours when you get paycheck, if you know what I mean.

What, how do you think we survive six months in this thing when soviet commander goes AFK with planet speed maximum?

Other tings necessary to survive include soviet brewery and soviet soda pop factory found below, we also have finest soviet bistro at the tail end of the tank- all free of course. Spread the meat!"

Taken aback, Phil had only one thing to say-

"I wonder what Tarkus would think- he supposed to be the strongest of all NPC's and all- but I don't even think he could match up to this thing!"

"Who do you think is driving tank?" Phil turned to the soviet pilot seat, the thing dramatically turning to reveal the legendary Black Iron knight with a primitive but powerful soviet headset-

"Soviet power supreme." He growled in his deep orgasm inducing voice-

"_It all makes sense now_" Phil breathed, looking around, "Now what?"

"Now- is time to pwn non-Soviet noobs-" Tarkus growled, pressing the button to lower the soviet jumbotron and flipping back around in his seat, putting on heavy soviet techno at max volume on the bitching soviet stereo-

* * *

The great bishop Havel heard a booming noise outside his door, peaking out and seeing a huge armored monstrosity roaring up the stairs of the watchtower- watching it disappear after a moment-

He looked down at his coffee- dumping the rest out and closing the door as he shambled back down the stairs-

"I'm too old for this bullshit."

* * *

The Taurus demon jumped down from the tower, seeing nothing and running to the other tower, ready for the plunge, only to see the underside of a great iron thing and getting crushed to a pulp instantly- the tank flooring it to spray the remains all over the place a moment before taking off.

* * *

Knight Solaire peaked out the archway, seeing the hellkite scumbag was gone-

"Well, that's odd…" suddenly, a hole was blown in the wall, the warrior of sunlight watching the port fold open, a pair of figures peeking out through the top-

"Hey Solaire!"

"Hey- Phil." The golden knight hesitantly replied, looking at his new ride before Boris jumped up beside the chosen undead-

"Welcome comrade! Do you wish to join us- is after hours and I just got soviet paycheck!"

"_Aww yeah_!" Phil added-

* * *

An hour later…

* * *

The invincible fangboar head the sound of great shape smashing through the wooden grate leading to the sunlight alter- confused until the apocalypse tank flew out from around the corner, smashing a hapless hollow under the treads-

"Sup bitch!" the chosen undead called, some lipstick stained on his cheek wrinkling as he drew up a great soviet flamethrower and grinned-

"What the-" the douchebag fangboar never completed the sentence as he was turned into soviet barbeque, which was much enjoyed by the crew-

* * *

The ravelord was doing his ravelord thing when the three musketeers let up a scream of agony, turning into the one musketeer as the last balder ran away- only to get flattened any as the soviet tank flew forward and ran him over, the Berenike at the end staring gape mouthed as the PA boomed-

"Is Tarkus- do you remember time when you stole lunch money and made fun of soviet accent? I do." The Berenike ran forward with his mace about ten feet before he was blown apart with heavy artillery- the ravelord ceasing his raving as the tank crept forward and turned towards him-

"Hello- do you wish to rave for soviet Russia, we are little low right now." The ravelord responded with his ravelord dance, leaping from the balcony and landing in the bosom of the dark tank-

* * *

The Bell Gargoyles flew from the room- and were instantly shot down by AA missiles. Pardner Oswald Jesusing before them before hoping in the tank to man soviet brothel- as the last owner was deemed an asshole and sparta'd off a cliff-

* * *

The Capra demon waited in the fog- already anticipating the time he would have with the chosen-

A dozen artillery shells blasted through the fog, the tank flying through long enough to run the dogs over before flooring it in reverse and flying back out.

The demon to this day has never figure out exactly just what the fuck happened.

* * *

Blighttown was as blighty as ever, the legions of deadly ogres standing watch- until a form blew through the bogs at breakneck speeds- doing donuts and ramping off the trees in the mire- before unleashing a hail of artillery and blowing them scrubs away- ramping up the scary dandruff pile to Quelaag's domain-

* * *

The monstrosity that was Quelaag crept out of her den- only to be greeted by the great soviet floodlights illuminating her bosom- everyone aboard watching the jumbotron so intensely the screen started to smolder-

"In soviet Russia ugly girls are pretty, will you come aboard?" she crossed her arms, "We have soviet Krispy Kreams."

And that was how Tarkus became the first tanker in soviet history to employ the "services" of two spider abominations in the same day.

* * *

Siegmeyer of Catarina waited patiently by the door, until a shape blew through the tower across the way, Andre the blacksmith hugging the back and weeping with joy at getting to ride such a technological nightmare as this.

The door to the fortress crept open, the tank flooring the brakes and stopping before him...

"Quick, grab onto armor…" the knight did so-

"_Adventure_!" he cried happily as they took off…

* * *

A great, Iron man stood by, polishing his axe, before a haggard serpent man came up to him-

"Golem?" he looked down,

"Yes, what is it, I'm very busy."

"Tarkus is here, and he brought a tank." The golem went still, setting down his axe and slowly walking on-

"Golem, what do we do?" the manserpant asked desperately, before the Iron Golem pulled a Manus catalyst from his belt and blew his head off with a dark bead-

The manserpant, seeing his great leader fall, pulled off his hat and placed it over his chest for a customary moment of-

_**The scrub was blown up by an artillery shell becuiase he was a motherfucking noobs mcgee can't play this fucking game bithc! The the tank ran over his corpse and blew a hug hole thorugh the mountasin cause the can't wast his time fucking takin ghtr egargoyles brithc!**_

* * *

The tank flew through the entirety of Anor Londo, until it came to a gap, having to stop a moment.

"We need to turn this bridge, I did it before but had to strip of armor."

"I will go." Boris called, exiting the hatch and heading into the paining guardian room-

"You came to the wrong-" the painting guardians were cut off by a rain of gunfire, the soviet death machine flying through the room and ninja leaping all across the way to the other side with insulting ease-

"Is cake…"

* * *

They lowered the bridge, finding Gwyndolin and Pricilla along the way and employing their services alongside Quelaag –scene removed for content _**MA**_ waaah neeewwww think of the children *explodes*-

Needless to say, they got Jolly the Giant Blacksmith aboard (somehow) after clearing out the other giants-

But before they went into the cathedral, the chosen undead put his arm out-

"Wait, first, I have to do something, Tarkus, what's the range of these guns again…"

* * *

The scumbag archers were sharing a martini, and never even knew what hit them as a missile the size of a small barn flew out and blew them and half the castle away, their Wilhelm screams echoing into the distance as they fell to their deaths-

* * *

Ornstein and Smough crept forward- and were blown up instantly. _Next_!

* * *

The crew, with nothing better to do, added Gwynevere to the crew's roster and took the Lordvessal to Kaathe, before blowing him up- then they blew up Frampt because fuck the serpents _and _their agenda I'm Batman!

* * *

There was little to say about the four lords- cept that they were moar like the fuur nuubs!

Accept for one worthy mention:

* * *

The bed of chaos was being the bed of chaos, when suddenly the tank which brought with it total despair flew from the wall, the hatch opening-

The legendary Black Iron Tarkus himself rose form below with a soviet Black Iron Chainsaw-

"Is time for the snip-snip" he growled, revving the fiendish weapon-

* * *

After feeding the lordvessal, defeating all adversaries, and etcetera etcetera, they landed in the Kiln of the First Flame and owned Gwyn, coming up to the last bonfire and wondering who was going to sacrifice themselves, until Boris raised his hand-

"I know, why not instead of killing one of use, let's spread the fire and each add a piece of our kindling?"

They all applauded the idea-

"I shall give Black Iron Armor grease." Said Tarkus,

"I will give my red feather, praise the sun!" declared Solaire

"I will give beard!" Boris wept_, is for good cause, is for good cause_-

"My titanite slab!" Siegmeyer offered, tossing it in- no-one commenting on the fact that rock doesn't burn

"My hair!" Quelaag offered, everyone going apeshit and even offering to cut it for her-

Around and around it went, but alas, for some reason their offerings would not burn- something was missing-

It was then the chosen undead solved an ancient mystery hailing from all the way in the distant past of King's Field-

He took out a plain, useless wooden pendant and cast it into the fire- the thing's mystical properties burning hot enough to ignite the other items-

There was an atomic blast of energy so great they had to take refuge in the apocalypse tank to keep from getting burned alive as the eruption tore holes in the very fabric of space and time.

They'd discovered that a combination of those items- like the good little Mary Sue fic this is- created a fire that would burn forever and ever and ever with the power of love- everyone in the world that died coming back to life, even the demons- only they were good guys now-

The mutants like Quelaag were turned hot and normal again, only Pricilla stayed half dragon because she was super cute that way.

Everyone gathered in the kiln of the first flame in a celebration of hugs and tears as the golden age of Lordran returned to the land- which- due to the super hot and arousing environment of the flame- devolved into a massive orgy that lasted so long they all had heart attacks and died, but that was cool because they were all brought back to life- and went on to found a utopian land of pure bliss and joy for everyone that never, ever, ended.

The end :3

* * *

Zomg! Best thing I ever wrote/777

As some of you may know, I've been going through a rough spot and have felt really depressed lately, but I'm doing better and thought I'd write something positive to help break me out of my slump. Inspired by several hours of Command and Conquer recently, this was purely for fun and thus lacking in value.

Fear not, Scrolls vs. Souls is being worked on and will be continued since I'm in a better mood.

If you haven't played Command and Conquer, you're probably confused as fuck so let me explain a few things:

Command and Conquer: Red Alert is a Sci-fi RTS game deals with an alternate history scenario in which the Soviets use a time machine sometime in the 50s to go back in time and kill Adolf Hitler the moment he was let out of prison, effectively deleting the Nazis and the Holocaust from history and making the soviet empire the most powerful force on the planet next to America- as they didn't have to fight Germany.

Red alert 1 deals with a war between America and Russia as Russia tries to take over the world in place of Nazi Germany. The style was a little campy and a lot of the technology was a bit over the top, but this fic deals with its later sequel, Red Alert 2, which was even more over the top and ridiculous.

The Apocalypse Tank described in the fic is the Soviet's signature armored vehicle and my favorite tank in the whole game- it does as a matter of fact have two guns that fire three rounds each for devastating damage, and it does use AA missiles.

On top of that, the Apocalypse Tank has great defenses and _auto-regenerates health_, rendering it nigh indestructible.

The added detail of "three golden stripes" is relevant because in the game, you mass produce units, but if you take care of them rather than launch them to their death and they kill X-amount of baddies, they gain a star of veterancy, which boosts their attack power, attack speed, and health- three bars being the maximum, where they regenerate health on top of being two or three times stronger than the average unit.

An Apocalypse Tank, which is already as strong as it gets, with maximum veterancy is basically the Reaper in Tank form- ungodly strong armor and damage, an attack speed that surpasses all others with its double gun, triple shot pattern, and 2x health regeneration- a group of six able to level an entire base with little to no support.

Each faction has a fighter that represents them- basically an infantry unit with special abilities that can gain veterncy in a skirmish, but is usually seen in the story campaign at max veterncy off the bat. You see Boris in Red Alert 2: Yuri's revenge, and he is my favorite soviet hero in the game.

In one mission, you are accidently thrust back in time with a malfunctioning time machine and get attacked by a shitton of Tyrannosaurs- Boris oneshot fifteen in a row- _one-shot_, and his banter when you send him place to place is hilarious to listen to.

Hopefully, that clears up the references and explains why there's a soviet tank in Lordran :3


End file.
